The Transition of Robert Crawley
by Captain Barnacles
Summary: During a transatlantic voyage, the Crawleys encounter the shadowy world of the Cthulhu Mythos.


The Transition of Robert Crawley

" _Ah sll'ha nilgh'ri shtunggli tharanak. Athg k'yarnak goka 'bthnk_ …"

"Gesundheit, son."

"Oh. Forgive me, ma-ma."

Arm-in-arm, the Earl of Grantham and his mother, the Dowager Countess, walked the length of the ship, catching up on the banalities of their voyage. It was a quiet evening, and a cool breeze from the east provided a welcome respite from the relative heat of the earlier day.

"It is good of you to go walking with me, dear," said the dowager, patting her son's hand. "Ever since that ghastly business with the Titanic, I have found the idea of ship's travel positively revolting..."

"Everything will be all right, ma-ma," said the Earl, after he had regained his bearings. Something about the evening was quite strange and unusual, and was doing things to his head. "According to Captain Newsom, we will be landing at Newport in the morning. Vera's mother will be there to greet us."

The dowager made an annoyed grunt. "I should much prefer to have been drowned in the sea..."

The earl patted his mother's arm. "Come now, ma-ma. I should like to think that it would not be so disagreeable as all that..."

"You should, son. But then again, you have always been more of an optimist than myself."

The pair went over to the railings, looking out at the sea. Above them, the moon cast its ghostly light into the dark waters. There was a man standing there already, tall and gaunt, with black hair and an ill-fitting suit. The Earl gave him a nod of greeting, but it was not returned.

"A lovely evening for a stroll," said the Earl. "I do not believe that we have been introduced…"

"We have not," said the man, not looking at him.

The Earl paused for a second, perturbed by the man's rudeness.

"Well…yes. I am Robert Crawley. This is my mother, Violet."

"Charmed," said the dowager, quirking her brow slightly.

The man turned to them at last, his beady eyes taking them in measuringly.

"Ah, yes. The earl and his mother. I had heard that members of the peerage were on board. I am Howard Phillips Lovecraft." He looked at the moon, the light casting his face in a deathly pallor. "Do you see it?" he said after a moment, pointing a skeletal finger as he clutched the rail. The grin on his face sent chills down the earl's spine.

The Earl blinked. "I…do not understand."

"The _moon_. Do you see it?"

"I…yes…"

Lovecraft smiled. "A pallid, squamous thing, gibbering madnesses. Amorphous, antediluvian, foetid in its effulgence..." He sighed. "Luminescent fungi live there, giving it its light. They call themselves the Mi-Go, and hail from far Yuggoth…"

"He must have had the fish for luncheon," whispered the Dowager to her son.

"That is…quite impressive, sir," said the Earl after a moment.

Lovecraft nodded. "Indeed. It is a harbinger of things to come." He turned and left them without another word, the strange smile still on his face. The earl was not certain, but he thought that he heard Lovecraft muttering in a strange tongue.

"American, do you think?" asked the Earl.

The dowager sniffed. "Undoubtedly."

Returning to their quarters, the earl sat in a chair and began to read the week-old Times, disturbed by the man's words. Shortly after, his wife Cora came out from her room along with the Lady Edith, their daughter.

"Hello darling," said the countess. "Did you and ma-ma have a nice stroll?"

The earl blinked, then shook his head. "Oh, sorry darling. What did you say?"

"I asked if you and ma-ma had a nice stroll?"

"Oh. Oh, yes, it was…quite illuminating."

"Are you all right, pa-pa?" asked the Lady Edith, clasping her bird-like hands together in a nervous gesture. "You are beginning to worry me."

"I am fine, darling, just fine." He set the paper aside. "Is there any tea to be had?"

"No, but I can ring for some."

"Yes, thank you."

Going to do so, the countess returned shortly after, sitting beside her husband. Taking his hand, she gave him a concerned look.

"Robert, talk to me," she said. "I have not seen you in such a state since you came back from the war."

The earl looked at his wife then, and gave a slight smile. How good she always was to him! Even when he himself had been far from faithful, she was always there, constant and immovable. She was the rock to which he moored himself.

"We…met a strange man out on the deck," he said at last. "A Mr. Lovecraft, I believe his name was. American chap."

"Oh?" she said. "And do tell me of this American chap."

The earl chuckled. "He was an odd duck, to be certain! Thin, dark suit…he kept talking about 'effulgences' and such."

"Dear me. We certainly can't have that."

Beside them, the Lady Edith gave a hopeful smile.

"Was he with anyone?" said Edith.

"No, dear. He was by himself."

"Oh. Well, perhaps he is merely in need of company…"

At that moment, the sound of alarm bells began to ring outside. Rising, the earl went to the door and opened it, looking out.

"Hello!" he called. "Is everything all right?"

From the next room, Bates, the earl's valet, exited and closed the door, holding a cane and clad in a dark suit. The earl waved him over.

"Bates, my good fellow, what in the devil is going on?"

""I've no clue, my lord," said Bates, looking about. "I should imagine that we will know shortly."

"Fire!" called one of the crew members. "Fire below decks! Everyone topside, now!"

"My word," said the earl. "Go and fetch ma-ma. I will see to the others."

"Very good, my lord," said Bates, going off to see it done. Nodding, the earl went back into the room, calling for his wife and daughter.

"Come now, there is a fire below decks!" he said. "We must evacuate the ship!"

"Oh my," said the countess. Behind them, the Lady Edith clasped her hands and looked about with worry.

"But…but our things…" she began.

"Hang the things, girl! We need to go, now!" said the earl, taking his wife's hand. Looking at him, she nodded, then followed them out into the hall. Behind them, Bates was leading the dowager and her butler, Spratt, out into the hall as well.

"Did someone burn the chicken?" asked the dowager.

"I've not the foggiest, ma-ma, but we must go topside," said the earl.

"And just when I was just about to enjoy a restorative broth." She looked over at Spratt. "Come, Spratt, let us go."

"Yes, mum," said Spratt, looking uncomfortable.

Together, the six went topside, doing their best to try and keep from being trampled from the rush of the other passengers. There was a cloud of thick, dark smoke emanating from the engine room, and the crew was rushing about frantically with buckets of water and sand. Looking through the cabin doors, the earl could see the reflections of red flames flickering in the dark. He was reminded of a passage from Dante's "Inferno", and held his wife and daughter's hands.

"Everyone, remain calm!" called an older gentleman in uniform, whom the earl recognized as Captain Newsom. "There is a fire in the engine room, and the rudders are down! Please to approach the lifeboats. We will disembark to shore until the fire is contained. Women and children first."

"Dear me," said the dowager. "I do hope that there is enough room for everyone..."

Despite the crowds, it turned out that there was indeed enough room for everyone, and once the women and children were onboard, there was enough space in the boat for the earl, Spratt, and Bates to join their family. As it was lowered, the earl looked over at the edge of the boat, seeing that Mr. Lovecraft was with them. He made a face.

"Where are we going, pa-pa?" said Lady Edith, shivering and staring out into the turbid waters.

Lovecraft leaned forward eerily, smiling.

"Innsmouth," he said.

The dowager quirked a brow. "Sounds drafty," she said.

It took several hours for the boats to reach the shore, during which time the passengers talked and tried their best to sleep. There was a great deal of fog, so much so that the earl could not see the other boats. Feeling light-headed, he looked out into the distance, seeing the moon hovering low above the dark waters. It looked like a skull, and he shivered.

"You see it, now," whispered Lovecraft, who by that point had moved closer to them, but had said nothing. "I know you do..."

""I'm…sorry. What am I supposed to be seeing, Mr. Lovecraft?"

"Do not be fatuous, sir. You see the face behind the pale. You see it for what it is, glittering like a pearl in the lap of Great Dagon. The Black Goat has marked you for her own…"

"Sir, I should very much like it if you do not speak to be further," interrupted the earl. "I find your company disagreeable, and should very much like it if you kept to yourself once we are on shore."

Lovecraft smiled and sat back. "As you wish."

They said nothing more, until they began to see faint lights in the distance. As the boat approached, they could make out the remnants of what was once a wharf, now rotten and overgrown with algae and barnacles. Beyond it was a large, brick building, surrounded by lines of old houses built in the Georgian style. Some lights flickered in the windows, but it was hard to see through the fog if anyone walked the streets.

"Innsmouth," said Lovecraft. "You should like it, I think."

Behind them, something made a low, croaking sound, and then a loud splash and a scream could be heard. The earl turned to see what it was, but he could not make it out. The others in the boat woke at the sound.

"Father, what was that?" said the Lady Edith. "Where are we?"

The earl looked over at Lovecraft, who had closed his eyes and was rocking back and forth, chanting.

"Innsmouth. Apparently," said the earl.

Lady Edith looked over at Lovecraft.

"He seems an odd fellow," she said.

"Oh, you've no idea," he said.

Once the boat had been rowed to shore, Bates tied it to what remained of the dock and helped the passengers up. Once everyone was on shore, they looked around to see if any of the other boats had arrived, but they had not.

"Dear me, where is everyone?" said the countess. "Where are the other boats?"

"It is a thick fog, my lady," said Bates. "Perhaps they moored further down shore."

The dowager grunted. "I should hope so, for their sake. Drafty indeed, and the smell of _fish_ …"

"Yes," said Lady Edith. "I should hope…"

At that, she slipped on a patch of algae, crying out and grabbing on to the first person she could, which was Lovecraft. Stiffening at the touch of her, he pulled away once she had steadied herself.

"I…I am sorry…" she began.

"Do not touch me," he hissed. "I despise the touch of the female…"

Frowning, Mr. Bates went up to him.

"It was an accident, mate," he said menacingly. "Do you understand?"

Lovecraft stared back, brushing off his arm.

"Quite," he said, smirking.

"Enough of this," said the earl. "Mr. Lovecraft, you seem to be familiar with this city. Where do you suggest we go for lodgings?"

"Ah. You wish for my knowledge, now that you are in the unknown? Whatever happened to your wanting me to keep to myself?"

"I have not changed my opinions, sir, but I cannot have my family and these other good people standing about in the dark."

"Ah yes, of course not. Very well, then; come with me, all of you."

As they followed Lovecraft through the labyrinthine streets of Innsmouth, the earl couldn't help but notice strange details through the fog. In alleyways, he thought that he saw cats with human faces, and people with horrific visages staring at him from windowpanes. In places, the ground was soft, and seemed to move beneath his feet. He thought that he heard things in the distance, some of which growled like angry dogs, or flapped like great birds in search of prey. He shivered.

"Not much longer, now," said Lovecraft.

"I should hope not," said the earl.

"Ma-ma, I do not like this place," said Lady Edith, holding tight to her mother.

"Hush, darling," said the countess.

Beside him, the earl turned to the dowager, who as always was nonplussed.

"Mother, are you warm enough in all of this fog?"

The dowager scoffed. "My dear, save for the lack of solid footing beneath my heels, this is proper English weather. I am quite well, thank you."

"Indeed. Spratt?"

"Quite…quite well, my lord."

"Bates?"

Bates said nothing, seeming to be on edge as he looked around in the darkness.

"Bates, my good man. Did you hear me?"

"Yes, forgive me, my lord. I am well."

"Good. Hopefully we will be out of this weather soon and into a proper bed."

"Sleep is beside the point at this juncture," said the dowager. "I should only like a proper cup of tea…"

After a few more moments, the group found itself standing before an ancient building, a placard out front advertising it as "The Rictus." There was a strange creature painted on it, resembling an octopus with dozens of eyes.

"Here is where we will be staying for the night," said Lovecraft. "I know the patrons well: women, in fact. Is that not unusual?"

"I only want to be out of this fog, Mr. Lovecraft," said the earl.

"Quite. Yes."

Inside, the building was dark and cold, save for a few oil lamps that provided small beacons of sanity. Beneath them, the ancient flooring creaked beneath their feet, and they could make out two other guests who were sitting at separate tables, a man and a woman. They did not look up.

"Please, have a seat," said Lovecraft. "I will ring for the ladies."

They did so, the earl and his immediate family sitting next to the woman, while Bates and Spratt sat next to the man. As the earl sat down, he noticed that the woman had a small baby with her, and was softly singing to it.

"Good evening, madam," said the earl. "I…"

The woman looked up at him then and hissed, her face a mass of scars and bulging veins. She moved away to another table, and as she did so, the earl thought that he saw a hint of the baby's hand, which resembled a tentacle.

"Well," said the dowager. "There is that."

Over at Bates' table, Spratt looked at the man who they were sitting with, who was rocking back and forth and softly whispering in strange tongues.

" _Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn_ …" he muttered, repeating the phrase over and over again. Spratt wiped at his brow.

"What nonsense he utters," said the butler. "It is as if he is speaking the Hindoo."

Bates said nothing in reply, taking in his surroundings and holding his cane in a tight grip.

Shortly after, Lovecraft returned with two women beside him. Both wore dark dresses, with strange golden jewelry around their necks and fingers. One of them had short, dark hair and glasses, while the other had longer, lighter hair tied behind her neck.

"My lords and ladies," he said, "may I present the owners of this fine establishment, Mses. Evans and Winchester."

"Charmed," said the dark-haired Ms. Evans, nodding. "I should hope that you like your stay, here." She carried a cat in her arms, which had a strange look on its face and seemed to take their measure.

"Madame," said the earl.

Beside her, the other woman was stroking a small figure in her hands. It was stuck full of long hat pins, and had long, black hair that stood up high above its head.

"Welcome to The Rictus," she said. "I trust that you shall behave yourselves while in our establishment, otherwise Poe and I shall know if it."

The dark-haired woman frowned at her. "Jenny, please…"

Jenny turned to her. "What of it, Paula? You remember the last ones that were here, cavorting and carrying on…"

"We shall endeavor to be on the best of behavior while we are guests here, dear ladies," interrupted the earl. "For now, we would like rooms. We are quite weary from our long journey."

"Of course," said Ms. Evans, setting the cat down. "If you will follow me."

Rising, the six of them left Lovecraft and the others behind, then followed Ms. Evans up the stairs, wrinkling their noses at the scent of brine as they made their way up to the landing.

"Someone is canning pickerel," sniffed the dowager.

"Forgive the stench," said Ms. Evans, giving her a look. "It is rare that we serve the gentry. Sailors and fishermen, mostly. They tend to bring the sea with them."

"Amongst other things, I am certain," sniffed the dowager.

"Ma-ma, please," said the earl. "Just our rooms, Ms. Evans, thank you."

Ms. Evans nodded, then opened a door with a large ring of keys.

"The finest room in the house," she said. "Unfortunately, I only have one other, smaller room, so you will need to decide how you will best use it."

The earl grumbled. "Very well. Darling, you and Edith will sleep with ma-ma. Bates, Spratt, and I will take the other room."

The countess frowned. "Are you quite sure, darling?"

"Quite. I have endured worse, bivouacking during the war."

Bates smiled slightly. "I shall try not to snore too much, my lord."

Spratt wiped at his face. "I do not like this place, at all. It is quite foreboding…"

"Hush, Spratt," said the dowager. "You have endured Lady Pensington's luncheons with me. I am certain you can make do with a bit of pickerel."

"Yes, mum."

After they had gotten settled, the earl approached Ms. Evans in regards to payment.

"Unfortunately, all of our belongings were left behind on the ship," he said. "I do not have the money at the moment, but I can have my bankers send you a check by wire…"

Ms. Evans shook her head. "There is no need. Any friend of Mr. Lovecraft is welcome to stay at The Rictus."

The earl wondered at the term "friend", but he nodded his gratitude to her.

"Thank you," he said. "Good night."

"Good night."

Watching her go down the stairs, he was about to go to his own room, when he noticed the cat staring at him from down the hall.

"Hello, there," he said. "What are you about, hm?"

The cat swished its tail, and then, to his bewilderment, it smiled at him. It was a wide smile, like a half-moon, and filled with far too many teeth. Then, it turned and walked away.

The earl's dreams were terrible things. In them, he found himself on some strange, alien plane, standing on pink sands as he looked up at a pale sky the color of bleached bone. Where the sun should have been floated an immense black orb, thick with writhing tentacles. Then, a central eye opened up in the middle to regard him, its twin irises seeming to bore into his very soul. He fell to his knees, holding his shoulder in pain…

"My lord?" said a familiar voice.

Sitting up, the earl gasped, holding his chest as he looked around.

"My god," he said. "Where am I?"

"You're in our room, my lord," said Bates, from his place in a chair. "You were screaming."

"Was I?"

"Yes," said Spratt, who had been lying on the floor. "Are you well, my lord?"

"As well as can be expected, considering the circumstances…"

At that moment, they heard another scream from the adjoining room, where the countess and others were staying.

"My god," said the earl. "Come on!"

Rising, the three tried to open the door, but found that it had been locked. Twisting the handle, the earl tried to break it open with his shoulder, but to no avail.

"Bloody, blasted door!" yelled the earl, slamming it with his fist. "Hello! Hang it all, let us out of here!"

"Let me, my lord," said Bates.

With a reluctant nod, the earl stepped aside as Bates rammed the door with his shoulder, breaking it off its hinges. When they went into the hall, they nearly gagged at the powerful scent of fish, and saw that the floor was wet and covered with slime. The door to the countess's room was open.

"Hurry!" said the earl, leading the way.

The other men followed, and when they went into the room, they stopped in horror at the sight before them.

"My god," said the earl.

On the ground before them was a horrific shape, more fish than man, and easily seven feet tall. It was grayish-green in pallor, with webbed hands and great, bulging eyes on the side of its head. Gills on its neck fluttered weakly as it twitched on the floor, and a cool breeze flowed in from the broken window on the east wall. There was a broken lamp beside the creature, but he saw no sign of the women.

"Cora!" called the earl. "Edith! Ma-ma! Where are you?"

"In the closet!" called the countess.

Going to it, the earl opened the door, seeing the three holding makeshift weapons in their hands.

"Oh, pa-pa!" said Lady Edith, dropping a tea pot as she rose to go over to him. The earl held her.

"There, there, darling," he said. Behind him, Bates poked at the creature with his cane.

"Dear me, is that great codfish still about?" said the dowager, holding her cane. "Frightful thing."

"If you are speaking of the…creature on the floor, then yes," said the earl. "Are you well?"

"Well enough," said the countess. "We were having a bit of tea before bed, when the door burst open, and…and that thing started to come toward us."

"It tried to grab me, pa-pa," said Lady Edith. "Luckily ma-ma was able to knock it unconscious with the bedside lamp."

"Indeed," said the dowager. "And then another tried to get in through the window? Can you imagine such a thing? Really…"

"What happened?" said the earl?

The dowager lifted her chin. "Well son, much like dear Cora, I improvised. I threw a biscuit tin at it."

"It is quite dead, milord," said Bates.

"Good. Let us get out of this damned place."

Together, the six left the room, heading for the stairs. But before they could do so, they saw Mses. Evans and Winchester staring at them from down the hall.

"Is our hospitality not pleasing to you?" said Ms. Winchester.

"Return to your rooms," said Ms. Evans. "We insist."

"Go!" said the earl to the others. "Get out of here! I will hold them off!"

"Pa-pa!" called Lady Edith.

"Do as I say!"

Doing so, the others ran down the stairs, all the while the two patrons continued to stare at the earl. They smiled eerily.

"You will not deny us our sacrifices," said Ms. Winchester.

"Dagon requires them. Mother Hydra requires them," said Ms. Evans.

At that, the cat Ms. Evans had been holding leaped out of her arms and stared at him. It smiled like a demonic Cheshire Cat.

"Great Cthulhu requires them," it hissed, flexing its claws.

A part of Robert wanted to run with the others, but he stood his ground, remembering the horrors of the trenches and the bravery of the men who served under his command. He would not falter in this, even if it killed him.

"Over my dead body," he said.

Grinning, Ms. Winchester held out her doll in one hand, then pierced its head with a long pin that she held in another. A terrible, lancing pain filled his head, and he dropped to his knees, holding his head and crying out.

"Do not kill him," warned Ms. Evans. "Remember, he belongs to The Black Goat…"

"I will not," she said, stabbing the doll again and again. "Where would be the fun in that?" Robert screamed.

At that moment, an object flew through the air and struck Ms. Winchester's arm, making her drop the doll. Hissing, she held her hand, and through the haze of pain, Robert saw the visages of the ladies begin to shift and change. Their eyeballs began to bulge, and gills broke out on the sides of their necks as they watched a figure come up the stairs.

"Bastard!" hissed Ms. Winchester.

"Interloper!" hissed Ms. Evans.

"Come, milord!" said Bates, helping the earl to stand. "Get up! We must leave!"

Groaning, the earl did as he was told, following Bates down the stairs and out into the fog, where the others awaited.

"Robert!" said the countess, taking his hand. "What happened?"

"Later," he said. "For now, we must get to the docks…"

To the right of them, they began to hear a low laughter. Turning to it, they saw the figure of Lovecraft standing in the fog.

"Mr. Lovecraft?" said the earl.

"No. Not Mr. Lovecraft," said the figure. "Never Mr. Lovecraft. Something far worse than that fearful, coddled little hack could ever hope to be…"

At that, the figure seemed to burst out upon itself, shedding clothing and skin and growing into a gigantic mass of black slime, covered with a multitude of eyes and fanged mouths. It began to laugh in a disturbing chorus, and stretched out long tendrils of dark matter to grab them.

"Tekeli-li!" it chanted from its legion of mouths. "Tekeli-li!"

The mere presence of the maddening thing was enough to destroy all believe in any kind of ordered world. It was an impossibility, and yet, it was there before them, sliding toward them as it reached and tittered.

"Run!" yelled Robert, herding his family down the street. "For god's sake, don't look at it!"

They ran as fast as they could, not knowing where they were going, all the while they could feel the thing closing in behind them, gnashing with its mouths. The fog was so thick that they could barely see where they were going, but they managed to turn down an alleyway just as the creature was about to envelop them.

"Tekeli-li!"

"My word," said the dowager. "It looks like Mulberry jam."

They continued to run down the alleyway, moving through rats and garbage. The thing, however, had changed its shape to follow them, oozing down the pathway in a black wave of death. When they reached the end of the alleyway, they could smell the scent of the sea, and knew that they were close to the docks.

"There," said the earl, pointing. "Not much farther now."

"Pa-pa, I am frightened," said Lady Edith.

"No time for that now," said the earl. "Let us pray that there is still a boat for us to take…"

Heading down the street towards the docks, they could feel the creature flowing after them, chanting in its strange language. Then, the earl heard a scream, and turned to see that Bates had been taken up by one of its tentacles.

"Bates!" screamed the earl.

Groaning, Bates struggled in the thing's grip, reaching down at his leg as the creature gibbered and flowed. Unlatching his prosthetic leg, bates removed it and began to bash at the horror, making it scream in anger.

"Gah! Take that!" said Bates, giving a feral grin as he unleashed blow after blow. "You won't take me so easy, mate! I've met worse prison guards than you…"

Striking an eye, the creature screamed and dropped Bates to the ground, shrinking back momentarily. Running forward, the earl took Bates' arm and put it over his shoulder, helping him to run away.

"Come on, man," said the earl. "We're almost there."

As they ran, they could feel the creature recovering and continuing its chase. Once they reached the sight of the sea, however, they sensed that the creature was no longer after them. Turning, they looked into the fog, but could see no sign of the creature.

"Is it gone?" said the countess.

"I believe so," said the earl.

"Oh, thank god," said Spratt, huffing and puffing as he bent over. "I do not think that I could run another foot…"

At that, a black tentacle ripped through the fog and wrapped around Spratt, pulling him screaming into the fog. The others watched in horror, not believing what they had just witnessed.

"Dear me, it's taken Spratt!" said the dowager.

"Should I go after him, mum?" said Bates.

The dowager scoffed. "My dear man, you've but one leg at the moment. Besides, I can always get another."

"We shall mourn him later," said the earl. "For now, let us get to the boat."

They expected the thing to follow them, but it did not, its chase mysteriously halted by some unseen force that they could sense in the very air. Going down to the docks, they saw that their boat was still there, moored to the dark wood.

"Hurry!" said the earl. "Everyone in the boat, while I…"

He stopped when he looked into the water, which was filled with the glowing eyes of hundreds of fish men.

Rising up, the creatures rose and croaked, blinking their eyes and swaying in a strange dance. Beyond them, two huge forms rose out of the water, fishlike as their brethren, but larger and covered with long spines and strange jewelry. The sight of them made the earl's head swim, and he clutched his shoulder.

"Father Dagon," muttered the earl. "Mother Hydra…"

The two creatures bellowed at the others, the sound deep and primordial. The smaller fish men moved aside, and then Dagon and Mother Hydra moved aside as well, making a great space before them. The earl and his family watched in horrified silence, and then felt something behind them. Turning, they saw hundreds of figures coming out of the fog: men, women, and children, their faces scarred and misshapen. The earl recognized Mses. Evans and Winchester, along with the creature they recognized as Lovecraft, having gone back to human form. Its body was pale and genderless, and it smiled at them.

"He comes," said the figure in Spratt's voice. "He dreams no more."

Not knowing what to say or so, the earl and his family stood close to one another, holding each other for comfort. Lady Edith began to weep with fear, while the countess and the dowager maintained a stoic silence. Bates cursed and grit his teeth, hating feeling helpless. As for the earl, he could not help but feel as if he had failed them all, having come so far only to have hope taken from them.

"Oh pa-pa, what are we to do?" cried Lady Edith. "I do not want to be eaten."

"You will not, dear," said the earl.

From the water, the fish men began to chant in a strange, gurgling tongue. From the shore, the denizens of Innsmouth began to chant in the same tongue, swaying and moving about with the words.

" _Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!"_ they muttered.

From the water, bubbles began to emerge from the great space the fish men had made.

The earl and his family watched in horror as a great, octopus-like head began to rise from the water, trailing long strands of kelp and seaweed. Its massive black eyes seemed to suck in all the light from the moon above their heads, and tentacles from its mouth waved and writhed. It rose to an impossible height, then unfurled great, bat like wings from its back. Waves crashed and rolled from its rising, coming up the docks and rising to their waists. It looked down upon them, and then roared, the sound filling the night like the end of the world.

"Oh, dear," said the dowager.

Behind them, the villagers began to circle around their huddled forms, chanting and swaying and raising their hands in praise of the dark god before them. The words filled the earl's head, and he knew them now, understanding their meaning as if he had been born to them.

 _In his house at_ _R'lyeh_ _, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming._

R'lyeh, the Corpse City, a place whose geometries would drive one mad. No mortal mind could fathom it. The earl clutched at his shoulder and dropped to his knees in the foam, looking up at the Elder God in all its horrible glory. He groaned.

"Robert!" said the countess, reaching for him.

"Pa-pa!" said Lady Edith. "Pa-pa, talk to me!"

"He is gone," hissed the creature, again in Spratt's voice. "He hears the call. It is all to him now, as it should be." It smiled at them. "Soon, you will hear it too…"

Above them, Great Cthulhu spread out his arms, basking in the adoration of his supplicants. The villagers went to their knees, swaying and holding out their hands. The earl held out his hands as well, chanting along with them.

"It was I who set the fire in the ship," said the figure. "Such a splendid offering for my lord. So many of the rich and vain in one place, so confident of their place in the world. And yet, you see how small you really are…how insignificant. But god is here, now; the true god. He will purge the world, and make it again in his image."

Fear and helplessness filled their hearts at its words. They knew that they could not escape, no matter what way they turned. Lady Edith clung to her mother, while Bates tried his best to get the earl out of his trance. The dowager, however, lifted her chin and faced the creature.

"I am tired of listening to the monkey," she said, looking up at the Elder God. "I wish to speak to the organ grinder."

The creature laughed. "You dare?"

"Oh, I dare indeed," she said. "For I am Violet Crawley, Dowager Countess of Grantham."

"He does not deign to talk to your kind," it said. "You are small, and weak. You are annoyances…"

"…oh, I know about annoyances," she said. "After all, I have had a husband."

With that, she moved forward, holding her head up high as she walked toward the terrible god.

"I dare say, Mr. Thoo Thoo, is it?" she called out, planting the end of her cane into the muck. "We have much to discuss."

The Elder God did not notice her at first, so caught up in its praises. The dowager furrowed her brow and stamped her cane.

"Mr. Thoo Thoo, do look down here and speak when you are spoken to!" she called. "Your manners are appalling, even for an octopus."

Something in the way the dowager countess carried herself did manage to catch the eye of the elder god. Rumbling like some great, dying beast, the Great Cthulhu leaned over to regard her, its tentacles spread wide as it searched around her. One of the tentacles came close to the dowager's head, and she swatted it away with her cane.

"Shoo! Filthy thing," she said. "Do keep your appendages to yourself! I am not some bayside doxie to be pawed at!"

Seeing her strike the god, the Lovecraft thing began to scream.

"Infidel!" it said. "You dare to strike a god?"

Feeling the strange sensation of being struck, Cthulhu rose back up and roared, flapping his wings and slamming his great, clawed hand into the water. The fish men began to croak and flee in the face of his wrath, and even Father Dagon and Mother Hydra followed after them. Rising in horror, the villagers shrunk back into the fog, muttering to themselves. Cthulhu then turned his great, black eyes onto the Lovecraft thing.

"Impure," muttered the villagers. "Impure…"

"No," said the Lovecraft thing, raising its hands in supplication. "No, great lord. I did not know that she was so willful…"

The elder god roared, spreading its tentacles and displaying a round, sucker-like mouth filled with rows of long, yellow teeth. As he woke from his stupor, the sight reminded the earl of when his father had taken him to a cavern in Wales as a small boy. To him, it had felt endless and dark, and he had clung to his father's leg the entire time.

"Please lord!" begged the creature. "The others…the girl…they are weak…they are soft…"

Taking a deep breath, the elder god spread its arms, and the Lovecraft thing flew shrieking through the air, passing through the rows of teeth in the monster's gigantic maw. As it did so, Cthulhu bit down with a sickening crunch, then began to sink back down into the dark sea.

"Cursed!" screamed Ms. Evans. "He was summoned for naught!"

"Never trust a Shoggoth," said Ms. Winchester. "Let us away, sister, before the Deep Ones come to drag us down."

At that, the villagers and the fish men began to disperse, leaving the earl and his family alone on the docks. Rising up, the earl looked around him warily, then locked eyes with his mother.

"Ma-ma," he said, "what…what did you do?"

The dowager huffed. "What any individual with a hint of pride should do in that situation, son. I stood up to a bully."

The earl nodded, then looked at his wife and daughter.

"Are you all right?" he said.

"As well as can be expected," said the countess.

"I…need to use the washroom," said Lady Edith.

"Dreadful business," said the earl, putting his arms around them. "Let us leave this place, how we can."

As they spoke, Bates had found a piece of wood and used it as a makeshift cane, hobbling over to the docks.

"Bates, my good fellow, what is it?" asked the earl.

"There is a boat here, my lord," said Bates. "We should be able to take it back out to sea."

"And hopefully meet up with the ship," said the earl, nodding. "Come, ladies, let us away from this place."

"But, pa-pa," said Lady Edith. "I really must use the washroom…"

The dowager rolled her eyes, then pointed into a clump of cattail bushes.

"Pretend that you are on safari, dear," said the dowager.

"But…but what if those fish men return…"

"Then I shall give them a stern talking to, for interrupting a lady's private business."

Once they had boarded the boat and launched out to sea, they kept a constant guard for the fish men, which thankfully they did not encounter again. Several hours later, they heard a tremendous horn in the distance, and looking out, saw that it was the cruise ship come to rescue them. Heading in its direction, they were soon rescued, and given towels and hot tea to warm themselves.

"Damnable nuisance," said Captain Newsom, once he and the earl were able to talk alone. "Luckily we were able to contain the worst of the damage. My deepest apologies, my lord."

"Think nothing of it, my good man," said the earl. "We are here now, and safe."

"A shame about the others," said the captain. "We found nothing but empty boats, and feared that you had all been lost. Did any of the others make it?"

A great sorrow filled the earl's heart at the captain's words, for he had not thought about the other families that had come with him on the boat.

"I…do not know," he said at last. "They may still be behind, at Innsmouth."

The captain blinked, and seemed to go pale at his words. "Innsmouth, you say?"

"Yes. Do you know of it?"

"I…no. Forgive me, my lord. I must see to my men."

The earl gave him a strange look as he watched him go. "Yes. Yes, of course. Good morning."

Once everyone had warmed themselves, they retired back to their rooms for a much needed rest. Saying goodnight to Bates, the earl went to check on his mother, who was reading a small book of poetry and drinking a cup of broth.

"Look at you, son," she said. "So drawn and pale! Would you like a cup of this restorative broth?"

"No, ma-ma, thank you," he said. "All I wish is a good long night of uninterrupted sleep."

She nodded. "As do we all. My word, such excitement throughout the past twelve hours! I have not known such a thing since Prince Kuragin tried to kiss me behind the bushes. One must watch out for the hot-bloodedness of Russians…"

"Ma-ma, really," said the earl.

"Yes, quite. An old woman and her stories. Sleep well, son."

Bidding her goodnight, the earl returned to his room, putting his night coat away and going into the bedroom, where the countess lay reading a book.

"Edith is sleeping soundly, poor dear," she said. "I do not think that any of us will ever forget this night."

"Yes, a beastly row indeed," said the earl. "But we will manage. What is it that the bard said? 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy'?"

The countess smiled. "That is the saying. Now, when you are through quoting Hamlet, come to bed. You have not looked so exhausted since you came back from the war."

"Yes, so it has been pointed out to me." He went over to her and gave her a chaste kiss. "A moment, darling."

Going to the lavatory, he closed the door and splashed water from the basin onto his face, looking into the mirror. Indeed, he looked tired and drawn, as if all the life had been sucked out of him. Blinking, he began to see flashes of images in his mind: horrible things, darting through the deep waters in quick flashes of green and blue scales. Another image then appeared of a dark, tentacled orb, burning in his mind like a black sun. It opened its single eye, and it peered at him with twin pupils as it reached out to touch him…

"God!" screamed Robert, pushing back against the wall and holding his head.

"Robert?" called the countess. "Robert, are you all right?"

There was a great pain from his shoulder, and the earl grit his teeth.

"I…I am fine, darling," he said. "I merely bumped my head."

"Oh. Well, do be careful," she said. "Come to bed soon."

"Yes. Yes, quite…"

Taking a deep breath, he winced as he unbuttoned his night shirt, going over to the mirror again. On his shoulder was a single eye, its twin pupils floating within a sickening yellow iris. Black veins radiated out from its circumference, and it peered at him unblinking.

" _Iä!, Iä!_ " he heard inside his head. " _Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young!_ "

"Oh, bloody hell," he muttered.


End file.
